by J. R. Ward
"Death wish," V said under his breath. "Fucking Death Wish Boy we got over here."
The Scribe Virgin seemed flat-out amazed. "I should kill you now."
"I'm sorry, but this matters. I don't want her falling under that whole sehclusion thing. I want her to be my widow so she doesn't have to worry about anyone else leading her life."
"Human, you are astoundingly arrogant," the Scribe Virgin snapped. But then she smiled. "And totally unrepentant, aren't you."
"I don't mean to be rude, I swear. I just need to know she's taken care of."
"Have you had use of her body? Have you taken her as a male does?"
"Yeah." As Marissa turned bright pink, Butch tucked her face into his shoulder. "And it was… you know, with love."
As he whispered something soothing to Marissa, the Scribe Virgin seemed touched, her voice turning almost kind. "Then she shall be as you say, your widow, and not fall under any provisions affecting unmated females."
Butch sighed in relief and stroked Marissa's back. "Thank God."
"You know, human, if you learned some manners, you would fare well with me."
"If I promise to work at it, will you help me live through what's coming?"
The Scribe Virgin's head fell back as she laughed in a loud burst. "No, I will not help you. But I find myself wishing you very well, human. Very well indeed." Abruptly, she glared at Wrath, who was smiling and shaking his head. "Do not assume such leeway with etiquette applies to others who seek me out."
Wrath ditched the grin. "I am well aware of what is proper, as are my brothers."
"Good." The robes shifted back into place, lifting up and going over her head without the help of hands. Just before her face was covered, she said, "You will wish to bring the queen to this room before you commence."
And then the Scribe Virgin disappeared.
Vishous whistled between his teeth and wiped his brow with his forearm. "Butch, man, you are so lucky she liked you, true?"
Wrath flipped open his cell phone and started dialing. "Shit, I thought we were going to lose you before we even started—Beth? Hey, my leelan, could you come to the gym?"
Vishous grabbed a stainless-steel tray stand and wheeled it over to a cabinet. As he started putting things in sterile wraps on top, Butch shifted his legs around and stretched out on the gurney.
He stared up at Marissa. "Things don't work out, I'll wait for you in the Fade," he said, not because he believed it but because he wanted to reassure her.
She bent down and kissed him, then stayed with her cheek against his until V quietly cleared his throat. As Marissa stepped back, she began to speak in the Old Language, a soft rush of desperate words, a prayer that was more breath than voice.
V brought the tray stand up to the gurney, then went to Butch's feet. As the brother moved around, he had something in his hand, but he wasn't showing what it was, keeping his arm always out of sight. There was a metallic clank and the far end of the table tilted up. In the heat of the room, Butch felt the blood rush to his head.
"You ready?" V asked.
Butch stared at Marissa. "I feel like this is happening so fast, all of a sudden."
The door opened and Beth walked in. She said a soft hello and went to Wrath, who put his arms around her and drew her close.
Butch glanced back at Marissa, whose prayers had increased in speed until they were a blur of words. "I love you," he said. Then he looked at V. "Do it."
Vishous lifted his hand. There was a scalpel in it, and before Butch could track the movement, the blade cut into one of his wrists deeply. Twice. Blood welled, a bright, glistening red, and he grew nauseous as he watched it drip down his forearm.
An identical pair of burning cuts were made in his other wrist.
"Oh… Jesus." As his heart rate shot through the roof, the blood ran faster.
Fear came on him hard and he had to open his mouth so he could breathe.
Off in the distance, he heard voices, but he couldn't track them. And the room seemed to be receding. As reality warped and twisted, his eyes latched on to Marissa's face and pale blue eyes and white-blond hair.
He did his best to swallow the panic so he didn't scare her. "It's okay," he said. "It's okay… it's okay, I'm okay…"
Someone grabbed his ankles and he jerked in surprise… but it was just Wrath. And the king held him as V tilted the table even more so the blood ran out even faster. Then Vishous came around and gently eased Butch's arms off the table so they were hanging down. Closer to the drain.
"V?" Butch said. "Don't leave, okay?"
"Never." V brushed Butch's hair back with a gesture so tender it was out of place coming from a male.
Somehow everything got frightening. On some kind of survival reflex, Butch started to struggle, but V leaned on his shoulders, keeping him in place.
"Easy, cop. We're all right here with you. Just relax if you can…"
Time stretched out. Time… God, time was passing, wasn't it? People kept talking to him, but Marissa's uneven voice was all he really heard… though as she was praying, he didn't know what she was saying.
He lifted his head and looked down, but he couldn't see his wrists anymore to track what was—
All of a sudden he started to shiver uncontrollably. "I'm c-cold."
V nodded. "I know. Beth, turn the heat up some more, okay?"
Butch looked at Marissa, feeling helpless. "I'm getting c-colder."
Her prayers stopped. "Can you feel my hand on your arm?" He nodded. "You feel how warm it is? Good… imagine it all over your body. I'm holding you… I'm hugging you. You're against me. I'm against you."
He smiled. He liked that.
But then his eyes fluttered, the sight of her flickering like she was a movie on a screen, and the projector was broken.
"Cold… turn heat up." His skin prickled all over. His stomach felt like a lead balloon. His heart seemed to be twinkling in his chest, not beating anymore.
"Cold…" His teeth chattered, so very loud in his ears, but then he couldn't hear anything. "Love… you…"
Marissa watched as the pool of Butch's brilliant red blood grew bigger and bigger around the drain until she was standing in some of it. Oh, God… all his color had left him, his skin going paper white. He didn't seem to be breathing anymore.
V came forward with a stethoscope and put it on Butch's chest. "He's close now. Beth, get over here. I need you." He handed the stethoscope to the queen. "You listen to that heart of his. I want you to tell me when you don't hear anything for ten seconds or more." He pointed at the clock on the wall. "Track it by that third hand up there. Marissa, you come hold your boy's ankles, true? Wrath is about to get busy."
When she hesitated, V shook his head. "We need someone to keep him on the table and Wrath and I have to go to work. You're still going to be with him, you can talk to him from there."
She leaned down, kissed Butch's lips and told him she loved him. Then she replaced Wrath, taking over the job of keeping Butch's heavy body from sliding off the gurney onto the floor.
"Butch?" she said. "I'm right here, nallum. Can you feel me?" She squeezed the cold skin of his ankles. "I'm right here."
She kept talking to him calmly, though she was terrified about what was going to happen next. Especially when Vishous brought over the cardiac crash cart.
"You ready, Wrath?" the Brother asked.
"Where you want me?"
"Right here next to his chest." Vishous picked up a long, thin, sterile pack and ripped it open. The needle inside was about six inches in length and seemed thick as a pen. "How we doing with that heart rate, Beth?"
"Slowing down. God, it's so faint."
"Marissa? I'm going to ask you to get quiet so she can hear better, okay?"
Marissa shut her mouth and resumed praying in her head.
In the minutes that passed, they became a frozen tableau around Butch. The only thing that moved in the room was his blood as it dripped out of those deep wounds in h
is wrists and flowed down the drain. The soft glug, glug, glug in the floor made Marissa want to scream.
"It's still beating," Beth whispered.
"Here's what's going to happen," Vishous said, looking back and forth across Butch's body. "When Beth gives me the signal, I'm going to pop the table upright. While I work on Wrath, I want you two to seal up Butch's wrists. Seconds count. You need to close those wounds quick, we clear?"
They both nodded.
"Slower," Beth said. Her dark blue eyes narrowed on the clock and she lifted a hand to press one of the stethoscope's earpieces in tighter. "Slower…"
Seconds suddenly stretched out into infinity, and Marissa flipped into some kind of autopilot, her fear and panic buried under a powerful focus that came out of nowhere.
Beth frowned. Bent down closer, as if that would help. "Now!"
V set the table to level and Marissa ran around to one of Butch's wrists as Beth dropped to the other one. While they sucked the wounds closed, V shoved that thick needle right into the crook of Wrath's arm.
"Everyone back away," V barked when he withdrew it from the king's vein.
He shifted his grip on the syringe so he was holding it in his fist and leaned over Butch. With hurried movements, he felt around the sternum with his fingertips. Then he slammed that needle right into Butch's heart.
Marissa stumbled back as the plunger was depressed. Someone caught her. Wrath.
V extracted the syringe and tossed it on the table. Then he picked up the paddles of the crash cart and there was a juicing-up noise from the machine.
"Clear!" V shouted. And slapped the metal pads on Butch's chest.
Butch's torso jerked and V put his fingers to the male's jugular.
"Clear!" He hit Butch again.
Marissa sagged in Wrath's arms as Vishous threw the paddles onto the crash cart, pinched Butch's nostrils, and blew into his mouth twice. Then the Brother started chest compressions. As he performed CPR, he growled, his fangs bared as if he were pissed off at Butch.
Whose skin was now turning gray.
"… three… four… five…"
As V continued to count, Marissa struggled free. "Butch? Butch… don't leave… stay with us. Stay with me."
"… nine… ten." V pulled back, blew two breaths into Butch's mouth, then put his finger to the male's throat.
"Please, Butch," she begged.
V went for the stethoscope. Moved the disk around, searching. "Nothing. Fuck."
Chapter Thirty-eight
Two minutes later, Marissa grabbed V's shoulder when the Brother stopped CPR. "You can't give up!"
"I'm not. Give me your arm." When she did, Vishous cut through the skin of her wrist. "Over his mouth. Now."
Marissa rushed to Butch's head, pushed his lips and teeth apart and put the slice right to him as Vishous resumed chest compressions. She held her breath, praying that Butch would start to drink, hoping that some of her was getting into him and helping.
But, no… he was dead… Butch was dead… Butch was dead—
Someone was moaning. Her. Yes, she was making that noise.
Vishous paused and felt Butch's neck. Then fumbled for the stethoscope. He was putting the disk down when Marissa thought she saw Butch's chest move. Or maybe not.
"Butch?" she said.
"I got something." Vishous repositioned the disk. "Yeah… I got something—"
Butch's ribs expanded as he sucked a breath in through his nose. Then his mouth moved against her wrist.
She repositioned her arm so the wound fit better over his lips. "Butch?"
His chest inflated more deeply, his mouth backing off her vein as he drew air down into his lungs. There was a pause and then another breath. Deeper still…
"Butch? Can you—"
Butch's eyes popped open. And she went cold to the core.
The male she loved was not in that stare. There was nothing in it. Just blank hunger.
With a roar, he grabbed her arm, his grip so powerful she gasped. And there was no escape as he latched on with his mouth and started drinking in ferocious pulls. Twisting on the table, he savaged her wrist, his eyes fixated, animalistic as he breathed through his nose and swallowed in great yanks.
Through the pain, she felt total, abject fear.
Tell me you're still in there, she thought. Tell me you are still with us…
It wasn't long before she became light-headed.
"He's taking too much," Vishous said, all urgent.
Before she could respond, she became aware of a scent in the room, a dark… yes, a bonding scent. Wrath's. Except why would he feel the need to establish his mating territory here and now?
She swayed and Vishous's hard fingers grabbed her upper arm. "Marissa, you're done."
But Butch was starving, mad from hunger. "No! No—"
"Let me take over."
Marissa's eyes shot to Beth… then focused on Wrath. Standing at his shellan's side, Wrath's face was set in violent lines, his body coiled as if he were about to fight something.
"Marissa? Will you let me feed him?" Beth said.
Marissa looked at the queen. God, those words, those same words that had been spoken back in July… when Wrath's body had balanced on the edge of life and Marissa's vein had been what was needed.
"Will you, Marissa?"
As she nodded her head numbly, Wrath started to growl, his lips peeling off fangs that had elongated into white knives.
Oh, Lord, this was a very dangerous situation. Fully bonded males did not share. Ever. In fact, they would fight to the death before they let another male anywhere near their females when it came to feeding.
Beth looked up at her hellren. Before she said anything, Wrath bit out, "V, get your ass over here and hold me back."
As Vishous approached the king, he wished Rhage was with him.
Shit… this was a bad idea. A pure-blooded, bonded male vampire about to watch his shellan feed someone else. Holy hell, when the Scribe Virgin had suggested Beth come down, V had assumed it was for ceremonial purposes, not so she could be a vein. But what was the choice? Butch was going to suck Marissa dry and not have enough and there wasn't another female in the house who could do the job: Mary was still human and Bella was pregnant.
Besides, like dealing with Rhage or Z would be any easier? For the beast, they'd need a tranq gun the size of a cannon and Z… well, shit.
Beth reached up and stroked her hellren's face. "Maybe you shouldn't watch."
Wrath grabbed her by the throat and kissed her hard. Then he brought up her wrist and scored her flesh, opening her vein.
"Go to him. Now." He pushed her away, then slammed his body back against the wall. "Vishous, you better fucking hold me. Or this is going to get ugly."
Wrath's awesome body was trembling, his muscles tensed up, his skin breaking out in a sweat. From behind his wraparounds, his eyes glowed with a light so fierce you could see it plainly.
V hurled himself at his king and met instant, straining resistance. Dear God, this was going to be like holding back a bull.
"Why don't… you leave?" V grunted as he worked to keep Wrath's body in place.
"Would have to… get past them… to get to the door. No… way."
V twisted his head and looked at the table.
Man, Marissa was going to be on the floor if she didn't get free of Butch. And the cop was going to fight like hell if that source of blood left his mouth.
"Beth!" V shouted as he and Wrath struggled. "Pinch the cop's nostrils. Pinch them hard and hold his forehead down. That's the only way you'll get him to release her."
When Beth grabbed Butch's nose, the cop made an inhuman noise, as if he knew what was coming. And his body jackknifed on the table like he was prepared to fight whoever was going to take his food away.
Oh, Christ, please don't let him attack Beth, V thought. Wrath was so lit he was liable to break free and kill the guy. Please—
The females handled it beautifully. Marissa y
anked her wrist away and nailed Butch in the shoulders, punching into him, holding him down as Beth brought her wrist to his mouth. As that fresh vein came to him, Butch took to the new blood like a babe and moaned at the taste.
Which naturally caused Wrath to go apeshit.
The king's body lurched toward the table, Vishous getting dragged along.
"Marissa!" V shifted his grip so he was around Wrath's waist like a sash. "I need help over here!"
She looked over at Wrath… and she was good—damn, the female was good.
She undoubtedly wanted to be by Butch's side. Instead, she flashed over and rammed her body against the Wrath tangle that was about to unravel. The king stumbled back under the force of impact and V repositioned himself, his head torqued at a bad angle but his arms right where they needed to be, one up Wrath's back and locked on his neck, one around the waist. For kicks and giggles, V wrapped a leg through Wrath's thighs so if the male lunged forward again he would trip first.
As if on cue, Marissa did the same, entwining one of her legs with Wrath's and running an arm up the front of his chest.
Oh… shit. She was bleeding hard from that wrist of hers.
"Marissa… move your arm toward me…" V breathed deeply, muscles straining. "Marissa…"
She didn't appear to hear him. Was too busy watching what was happening on that gurney.
"Marissa… you're bleeding out. Lower your damn wrist."
She shifted her elbow and her arm dropped, but she really wasn't focused on herself.
Until V put his lips to her skin. Then she gasped and looked down.
Their eyes met. Hers were wide.
"Just to keep you from bleeding," he said against her wrist.
As Butch made a noise, she turned back to her mate.
And suddenly, time stopped for V in spite of the load he was holding back. He stared at Marissa's perfect profile as he licked the chewed mess of her wrist, sealing the wounds, easing the pain of them, starting the healing process. Compelled by something he didn't want to name, he ran his tongue over her skin again and again, tasting both her blood and… Butch's mouth.